


Life: What A Crazy Thing

by brokenpromisesandhope



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Derek Hale, Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, M/M, Marriage, Moving On, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pregnancy, Therapy, drinking alcohol while pregnant, emotionally damaged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 23:17:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9520427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenpromisesandhope/pseuds/brokenpromisesandhope
Summary: Derek can't believe Stiles is getting married.





	

**Author's Note:**

> First of all huge HUGE thanks to my new beta @JuniorWoofles for helping me with the ending and editing my nonsense, you're a doll and wonderful. 
> 
> Second, this sprung from the very specific line, "I'm the only asshole here who gives a shit about you!" From the movie Something Borrowed. 
> 
> Also I can ALWAYS be persuaded to write more, y'all know me. Please COMMENT/KUDOS, and talk to me on Tumblr: Mickey-mousemilkovich.  
> Xx  
> T

The problem is Stiles is too young. Too young to be getting married to some annoying girl who works at the coffee cart at the college. Derek knows the appeal, knows Stiles never got much romantic attention in high school, but that didn't mean he needed to cling like a barnacle onto the first person who showed interest. And that's not really fair for Derek to say, but it's true. Stiles is twenty years old and that's too young to be fucking engaged.  
Derek tries. He tries hard. The first time he meets Lanie he had to fight to keep from scrunching his nose. She smells like she's been hosed down in fake vanilla products. But he shakes her hand, and counts her freckles in his head and pointedly doesn't look at where her hand is resting on Stiles' thigh. His fingers twitched with jealousy, but he’d come to terms with it long ago that they would never be together, well he was trying to.  
It's crazy how even the Sheriff seems on board. He gives Stiles his mother's engagement ring, and there it sits on Lanie's bony finger. Derek knows it's wrong to judge, but she's twenty five, working at the coffee cart at Beacon Hills Community College, and she's not good enough for Stiles. He’s not saying he is, he’s broken, damaged, fucked up more than Stiles himself, but he can love, despite not wanting to. He didn’t mean for Stiles to crawl under his skin, to confide in him about how it felt to have someone’s life in your hands, literally, and make it slip away. They both had a guilt inside them, a darkness no one else could understand. And that, probably more than Stiles’ bright mind, biting sarcasm, deep whiskey eyes and lithe body, made Derek fall.  
Derek had stayed out of it when Stiles chose to stay in Beacon Hills for college. Even though Scott and Allison went to UCLA and Lydia went to Harvard, Stiles stayed at the local community college. Derek knew it was partially because of money, but Stiles never asked to borrow any from him (and he knew Stiles had too much pride to have actually consider it but he had offered in an off-hand comment one night), and he knew the Sheriff was sick, but still. Stiles was smart, he was so fucking smart and he deserved better than getting stuck in this shit town. And if he got married, then he'd never get out. Derek secretly thought that was partially what the Sheriff wanted.  
He talks to Lanie like she's already his daughter, he laughs at her jokes and eats her burnt food and acts like she's enough for Stiles. She’s not, but neither is Derek, so he really can’t say anything. It kills him, but he tries so hard. He tries to act like it doesn't matter when Lanie's there for the Thursday night dinners they had together. He ignores the sour stench of annoyance she gives off when he talks about simple things like his dog Benny and how Cora and Isaac are doing in France. It bothers him, but he can also smell Stiles' adoration when he looks at her, and he doesn't know what to do. Laine has made clear his dislike for him, in her short answers and scents of jealousy and annoyance.  
It all comes to a head at the bridal shower. Cora and Isaac are back from France for the wedding, which is happening next week, and they're on kitchen duty. Derek is filling up the tray with quiche, when Lanie walks into the kitchen.  
"Hey, these are just about gone, I can run to the store and grab more of you'd like more-"  
"It's fine." She says hastily. She opens the freezer and Derek stares as she untwists a bottle of vodka and takes a few swigs. Derek winces, the scent of alcohol always was too strong for him.  
"What?" Lanie snaps, taking a final swig before putting the bottle back.  
"I don’t know if-”  
"Weddings are fucking stressful alright?"  
"I really don't-"  
"No one asked for your opinion Derek." She turns on her heel and goes back to the party.  
The rest of the party is awkward, he knows the wolves can smell the alcohol on her breath and Derek watches her go back to the kitchen several more times. It's not that she can't drink, Derek just thinks it's strange to drink during an event such as this, but Derek's never been into drinking either. Derek just hangs in between the kitchen and living room, watching the food excessively, in case he needs to bring more out. Even that seems tiring. He just wishes this day, this wedding, would be over so he could crawl back to the loft and lick his wounds.  
Cleaning has never bothered Derek and as soon as all the guests leave, and Stiles sinks into an armchair and Lanie falls on his lap, he offers,  
"I can stick around and help clean up." Derek says jerking a thumb towards the kitchen.  
"Sure man, thanks." Stiles says before Lanie has time to object.  
Derek can practically smell her rolling her eyes and his shoulders tense as he turns and goes back to the kitchen. Stiles must not have told her about the supernatural of Beacon Hills because he hears her a few seconds late.  
"Why did you say that? I don't like him hanging around he’s strange."  
"Derek's just been through a lot. He's a good friend to me."  
She makes a noise, "Whatever. I don't want him here long, Stiles."  
"Alright." Stiles says, softer now.  
"I'm going to shower. I want him gone by the time I come back. And I want this house clean. I'm exhausted."  
He hears her trek up the stairs and then Stiles is in the kitchen with him, leaning close to him, "Hey, thanks for helping."  
"No problem."  
"It got pretty messy, huh?" Stiles asks casually.  
"Most parties do." Derek deadpans.  
"You don't like her." Stiles says. It's not a question.  
"That's not true." Derek lies. "She doesn't like me."  
"She does! She's just thinks you like me a little too much."  
Derek raises an eyebrow. "What? Even if I did, you're straight."  
"Im bi, Derek. I came out my sophomore year of high school."  
"Not to me." Derek says softly. This explains so much.  
"I thought you knew! I was always horny around you."  
Derek scoffs. "Just because someone smells, aroused, doesn't mean you can just, assume, I'd never-”  
Stiles nods. "Oh. Well yeah. Me, bi."  
"Me too."  
"Oh? Really? So I mean you could like me? Possibly? She's not being paranoid? You could like-" He just sounds way too eager to hear that answer. It’s been too long, he’s engaged for christ’s sake and Derek has his own shit, it can’t happen. It won’t work.  
Derek tries to push the scent of hope, and longing and want out of his nose and takes a deep breath, "Stiles, even if I did, and I’m not saying anything more on that subject, you're engaged. I'd never do that. She doesn't need to worry about me stealing you away or anything."  
"I sense a but coming."  
Derek tenses, should he? Shouldn't he?  
"I know I'm fucked up to say the least but don't do this. Do not do this. You're too young. You have your whole life ahead of you and this is a mistake. She can't even make it through a three hour party with your friends and family without drinking? What the hell is that?" He opens his mouth and the words just fall out, shattering like glass on the floor between them.  
"What?" Stiles asks, shocked.  
"You're too young Stiles. And you're better than this place, and this girl, and you're just一” Derek sucks in a huge breath. "You're an idiot if you marry her. You're an idiot if you throw your life away."  
Stiles' face drops. "What the fuck? You're kidding me right?"  
"No Stiles! I'm not kidding you. And I have to tell you because it seems like no one else is going to. Your dad, Scott, Melissa, they all seem to want to go along with this mockery of-"  
"Mockery?" Stiles shouts. "That's just too far. I'm not making a mockery of anything!"  
"You are! You're twenty fucking years old, you think you know what marriage is? You think you can have a marriage like your parents with her?" Derek snaps incredulously.  
"Shut up. You shut the fuck up. Don't you bring my parents into this, you asshole! You're being a fucking asshole!"  
"Maybe I am!" Derek yells back. "But I'm the only asshole here who gives a shit about you!"  
Stiles opens his mouth and then snaps it shut. Derek stares at them and tries to breathe through the mess of anger, hurt, resentment, sadness, fear, "Get out of my house."  
"Stiles-"  
"Get out of my house."  
Derek doesn't fight it, just grabs his jacket and leaves. And doesn't interfere again. Because it's Stiles' life. And not Derek's. Derek decided long ago he didn’t get a happy ending, but he had hoped Stiles would. As much as he wishes Stiles would drop everything - drop Lanie, drop out of this school, change his life - he doesn't. Cora and Isaac come home on Thursday night and tell him it was a beautiful service, and give him a slice of cake, and Lanie Evans is now Lanie Stilinski. And Derek ruined another relationship by just being himself. But then again that's the only way he knows he's living isn't it? When he's ruining other people. 

New York is a breath of fresh air for Derek. He hasn't been since he and Laura were living in posh apartments and roaming the streets. He thinks that maybe all the scents and people will overwhelm him but instead he feels relaxed. Like there's all these people around him so he really doesn't feel important. No one's seeking out Derek Hale. He's just there.  
Years pass and Derek doesn't really do anything. He takes up a few constructing jobs though he doesn't need the money. He does it to keep busy. He reads through novels, tries to paint, spends time drawing, spends time alone. He regularly talks to Cora and Isaac, congratulates them on their elopement, he wishes he could be there but he can't leave. He can't leave New York. He's still waiting for the concrete jungle to swallow him whole. He's not sure if that will ever happen.  
The only reason Derek ever leaves New York is because Cora gets pregnant. She gets pregnant and they move back to Beacon Hills, leaving their life of fancy French art and food behind. After many angry Skype calls from a six month pregnant Cora, threatening him that he better be there for his niece's birth and baptism, he sells his flat and moves home. Even though it hasn't been his home in nearly ten years. The Hale house had never been restored the way he'd always dreamed, and he knew Cora and Isaac had bought a house in the center of town, leaving the old preserve behind.  
Derek knows Cora would allow him to stay at their house, but he doesn't want to impose and he needed to find his own home anyway. Cora had insisted on picking him up in the airport, and he's amazed by how different she looks and smells. She's wearing a sundress for one, and she waddles over to him.He hugs her tight, and scents her neck. Derek can smell the baby, and he can hear the heartbeat beating a bit slower than Cora's. 

 

Stiles meets Lanie at the Beacon Hills Community College coffee cart. She's got red hair, and bright blue eyes and she makes his cinnamon latte perfectly. It's basically love at first sight. Stiles decided a long time ago that he would be staying in Beacon Hills. He decided when he was seventeen, acceptance letters to Yale and Notre Dame sitting on his desk. His dad's heart condition and emphysema was getting worse and he couldn't leave. Not when he was the reason for his dad’s high blood pressure, and stress level. His father had given his life for him, his life for an ADHD, smart-ass, killer, of a son. He shouldn't really be disappointed when he still lives in Beacon Hills at twenty eight years old. He's not sure if he's disappointed because it's a small town; or because he's a single, divorced father.  
He hadn't known Lanie was pregnant at the time of the wedding, contrary to everyone's belief. He had found out about a month after the wedding. He had come home from a sixteen hour day; eight at the coffee shop followed by eight at the police department helping his dad with paperwork. Both paid barely more than minimum wage and he was exhausted. He came home, dead on his feet, to see Lanie sitting in the living room, in the dark. He flipped on the light and turned to her."You alright hun? Is it your mom?" he asked, eyes locking on the bottle of wine sitting in her lap.  
She didn't answer him, and he walked over to her, placing a kiss on her forehead,"Lanie?"  
"I'm pregnant." She spits out.  
"What?"  
"Pregnant. Two months. Congrats." She sounds like she's telling him she has cancer. Stiles just stares at her, it's been two months and she didn't tell him, she didn't tell him before the wedding, she's been drinking- "How long have you known?"  
"A while."  
"Why didn't you tell me? Why the fuck are you drinking?"  
"It's fine Stiles, my mom drank all through pregnancy and I'm fine."  
"You're fucked up!" He spits, grabbing the bottle from her. "You're done drinking."  
She sighs, "I knew you'd act like this."  
"Like what?" Stiles asks, trying to keep his voice level.  
"Angry. Annoying."  
"Do you... Did you not want...?"  
"I dunno, Stiles."  
"What can I do to make this better?"  
"Just leave me alone please."  
"Lanie-"  
"Stiles, stop."  
"I, uh, just, please don't drink. And tell me these things."  
"Fine, fine, I get it, I should have told you when I found out."  
"I’m your husband."  
"And maybe that was a mistake."  
"Why are you being so mean?" Stiles asks quietly.  
"Just leave it, Stiles."  
Lanie's pregnancy was a lot of fighting, and a lot of crying, on both their parts. He hadn't realized how much Lanie drank until she couldn't. She was crabby, rude and constantly sick. Even though Stiles tried his best to be comforting and take care of her, she didn't accept it. She would yell at him, tell him she wished they'd never married, how she didn't want this baby; everything hateful under the sun. He knew before the baby was even born that they were getting divorced.  
Stiles had hoped once their child was born, Lanie wouldn't think it was a 'parasite' anymore. That maybe, they could work it out for the sake of the baby. That was dumb to think. She'd wanted all the drugs, and once their son was born, she'd said Stiles should be the one he should have skin to skin contact with. So, Stiles had shed his shirt, and placed his son flat against his chest. He crooned to the baby for hours, before Lanie asked him to go outside so she could get some rest. Before he'd left, Stiles asked if she had thought of a name yet, and she told him, "Name him whatever you want, you're going to be the one taking care of him."  
They weren't legally divorced, that was a lot of money neither of them had. Stiles hadn't even finished his associates degree and Stiles didn't technically have full custody of Malachy John Stilinski, yet he never heard from Lanie about their son.  
Life hadn’t ever treated Stiles fair, but he had assumed that since his teenage years had been so horrible, he had literally been forced to kill people with his own two hands, he assumed, he’s fucking hoped that his adult life would be better. It wasn’t. Being a single parent was hard, especially in a small town. Stiles didn’t have a college degree, he worked two jobs, and took care of his father. He struggled for money, dealt with embarrassment and rumors being spread around town. But what killed him most was the constant loneliness. Stiles had always been needy for love and attention, and he rarely got it. His father, a single, hardworking drunk, a dead mother, eyes too big for his head and mouth too loud for girls to talk to him, made him like this. That’s one of the reasons he fell so hard for Lanie, she returned this affection.  
He’d had crushes before, of course, Lydia, Danny and Derek, god Derek, but Lanie was the only one who returned his flirting, his kisses, who hugged him. Something he’d never got. Lydia was too smart, too out of his league, and made sure he knew it. Danny was, it was more aesthetic than anything, he was in love with his body, the idea of him. Derek was the only thing that could have been real, that could have evolved into a relationship, had they not been so fucked up. Had Stiles not ruined their relationship. Thrown their friendship, their hugs, their looks, their shared depression and guilt, in his face because Derek had tried to warn him. And he’d thrown his friendship away for a few months of sex and attention. He was an idiot. Though his son was beautiful and made him so happy, the constant humiliation and craving for adult attention threaten to swallow him whole.  
Stiles picks Malachy up from school everyday at three o'clock. He's waiting in front of the school when the bell rings and he puts his phone in his pocket and waits for his son. Malachy comes bounding down the hall, dodging other kids and their parents and all but jumps into Stiles' arms. "Daddy!"  
"Hi sweetie. How was your day?"  
"It was amazing! We got to color pictures."  
"Oh really? Of what?"  
"Of Smokey the bear! We learned about fire!"  
"Very cool buddy." Stiles leads Malachy to their car and buckles him in.  
Stiles gets in the car, and buckles himself in, pulling out of the elementary school parking lot.  
"What are we doing tonight, Daddy?"  
"We have to go to the store and get some dinner and I thought maybe we could visit Poppa and take Molly for a walk."  
"Yes! I love going to the store."  
"We're not getting a ton of stuff, just something for dinner tonight."  
"What are we having?"  
"Chicken and rice."  
"That sounds boring and healthy. Can we get ice cream?"  
"You sound like your grandpa."  
"My grandpa is awesome!"  
Stiles laughs, "He is." 

Derek is looking for Cherry Garcia ice cream, which really shouldn't be that hard to find, when he first see him. His mouth drops open because the child, who can't be more than nine, looks just like Stiles. He's got the same brown hair, moles and button nose. The only difference is the kid's bright blue eyes. But Stiles having a kid is impossible, especially that old, isn’t it? Derek tries not to stare as the boy bounces over to the freezer door next to him and yanks it open. He grabs a pint of ice cream and skips back to a cart at the end of this aisle.  
"Daddy?" Malachy asks as Stiles comes back to the cart and puts in a roll of crescents.  
"Yes?"  
"Do I know that man? Cause he keeps staring at me and that's very creepy." Stiles' panics a bit and looks to where Malachy is pointing, heart pounding. His mouth drops when he sees Derek Hale across the aisle, holding two pints of ice cream in his huge hand.  
"Holy shit." Stiles mumbles.  
"Daddy! That's a bad word!"  
Stiles looks at Derek again and his face is red and he's trying not to look at Stiles. It’s been years, their last conversation ringing in his head, “I’m the only asshole here who gives a shit about you.” Unfortunately it was true, Derek was the only one who voiced his opinions at the time, unlike Scott, and even Lydia who sheepishly admitted Lanie was rude and quite a heavy drinker.  
"Um, sorry. I just, we should-" Stiles takes a deep breath. Derek is still standing a few feet away, freezer door propped open. "Do you want to meet my friend?"  
Derek's head snapped up and they finally make eye contact. After all those years.  
Stiles knows his heart's still pounding as he pushes his cart over to Derek. "Um, hey."  
"Hi." Derek says back.  
"Malachy, this is my friend Derek. Derek, this is my son Malachy."  
Derek's eyes widen but he nods and shakes his hand. "You look just like your dad."  
"I have my mommy's eyes!"  
Derek tenses and waves of panic, bitterness and anger roll off of Stiles.  
"It's been a really long time, hasn't it Stiles? Could I, um, take you both to dinner?"  
Stiles mouth drops open a bit. Derek wanting to see him is one thing, but his son, "You want to take us?"  
"Yes, and I hoped we could maybe talk-"  
"Malachy will be with."  
"I know I won't, I just, need to apologize."  
Stiles raises an eyebrow. "You what?"  
"You heard me. I need to apologize, please let me?"  
Stiles looks down at Malachy, whose playing with his fingers, then nods. "Yeah that's fine."  
"Miller's Diner at six."  
"Okay. Um, see you then." Stiles gives him a little wave heads back down the aisle, heart pounding.

Derek can't help changing clothes when he gets home. He showers, trims his beard and puts on a red henley and a pair of tight dark jeans. He gets to the restaurant before Stiles and grabs a booth near the counter and the arcade games. Stiles and Malachy walk in a few minutes later and Derek is again struck by the fact Stiles actually has a son. A son who’s bouncing and smiling.  
"Hi Derek!" Malachy says, sliding into the booth across from him. Stiles slides in next to him and smiles at Derek. He can't tell if it's genuine or not, it’s been too long. Malachy gets a kids menu and chatters on about second grade and Derek realizes he's just like his dad. He talks with bold arm movements and he steadily increases in volume. It’s adorable and heartbreaking at the same time. After they finish eating, Stiles gives Malachy a few quarters and tells him to play a few games.  
"So," Stiles says resting his hands on the table.  
"I'll get straight to the point. I shouldn't have said anything, you guys are obviously doing really well and you have an amazing son-"  
Stiles frowns, "What are you talking about?"  
"I mean, you guys are still together and raising Malachy-" He can’t smell anyone else on Stiles or Malachy, but the younger boy mentions his mother quite a lot.  
"We're not," he rubs his temples. "Lanie and I aren't together, haven't been since Malachy was born. She's not a good person. You were right. I should be apologizing to you because you were the only one to tell me I was making a mistake. And that's what that was, a mistake."  
"Stiles, I'm sorry. You have to know this isn't what I wanted. I didn't want you to break up, I know you loved her but I got this feeling that she wasn’t, she wasn’t right for you.”  
"It's not your fault. I didn't love her by the end of it anyway. She was, she did, what she did was," Stiles looks down at the table. Derek can smell the resentment, disgust and sadness rolling off him in waves.  
Derek knows what it’s like to be drowning in self hatred and guilt, he swallows hard and before he realizes it, his hand is resting over top of Stiles’. Stiles looks up, liquid brown eyes wide. Derek would gladly die staring into those eyes. He strokes his thumb soothing along Stiles’ knuckles like his mother used to do for him at the dentist and Stiles sighs, “I should have listened to you. You were honest when everyone else was, content for me to make an ass out of myself.”  
Derek shakes his head, “That’s not what anyone wanted, I promise.”  
“I love Malachy, I love my son, I would die for him, I never thought that I could love someone so goddamn much but I’m almost thirty years old. I have nothing. I live in my childhood home, I make fifteen fucking dollars an hour, I have to lease my car, I’m alone. If I would have just listened to you-”  
Derek squeezes his hand, “Hey, stop. It’s not like I’m the poster child for success. Of course you wouldn’t listen to me. And listen, I’m almost thirty five and I don’t have my shit together either. At least you have a kid, I’m pretty sure that’s on the list of being a productive American Adult,” Derek jokes dryly. “But really, I’ve spent years of my life wishing I could change the past and guess what? All that does is make me move forward and want to change the time I wasted wishing I could change it. All you can do is move forward, right now.”  
Stiles smiles and Derek can’t help but smile back. “That sounds really smart. Who are you and what have you done with Derek Hale?”  
Derek laughs, “I actually got that from my therapist.”  
“Therapist? How’s that going?”  
“Good actually, I could always give you her office’s number.”  
“I don’t know if I’m ready for that,”  
“Think about it, it really helps with the self hatred thing.”  
Stiles smiles, “Yeah, we’ve always had that in common.”  
“It’s really good to see you,” Derek says, smiling and squeezing Stiles hand gently.  
“I agree, we should do this again. Next time’s on me, to apologize.”  
Derek sighs, “Stiles, we’re done apologizing. It’s been a long time. I don’t want an apology, I just want you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”  
“I know Derek.”  
“I also would like to get a chance to know you again, you and your son.” 

Before Stiles can respond, Malachy bounces up to the table, “Daddy I need more quarters!”  
“How about we take a break from the games Mac?”  
“No!” He pouts.  
“How about we get some ice cream instead?” Derek suggests.  
“Yes!” Malachy hollers, jumping up and down.  
“Okay, get your coat on and meet us at the door while we pay the bill,” Stiles says, handing Malachy his coat. Malachy tugs it on, running towards the door. Their hands have to separate so they can each put their own coats on, and Derek can tip the waitress, but as they head to the front of the diner, Stiles reaches for Derek’s hand, scent nervous. Derek immediately laces their fingers together and squeezes Stiles hand reassuringly until his scent relaxes into a more mellow scent and he pushes open the door, breathing in the fresh air as Malachy skips to the car, chattering on about whether he’s going to get gummy bears or Reese's pieces on his ice cream. Derek can’t help the smile that spreads across his face; no, they can’t change the past, the last three years of therapy have taught him that, but my god can they change the future. And Stiles is going to be in his future. This time to stay.


End file.
